


So I'll spend my time with strangers

by fixme_in_fortyfive



Series: Kink-Bingo [5]
Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Anonymity, Glory Hole, M/M, kink bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 06:48:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13382421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fixme_in_fortyfive/pseuds/fixme_in_fortyfive
Summary: This is a prompt-fill for my personal littleKink-Bingo. Anonymity.Pete is out to have some fun.





	So I'll spend my time with strangers

It’s not a sex party per se, but there sure are a lot of sexual things happening. Be it people rubbing off on each other on the dance floor for everybody to see, girls with skirts hiked up to make room for a head between their legs or guys getting blown in dark corridors leading to bathrooms that don’t include toilets. 

Pete loves it. There’s no pretending this isn’t something that it’s not. Just people having fun, one way or another. Nobody ever comes here to listen to some music and have a few drinks. Well, not only.

He’s not really the kind of guy that gets off in public, even though some of his friends would beg to differ, but there’s this one room where he can get off and keep it private. At least, as private as it gets in a club like this.

He passes the people on the dance floor, the girls on the couches and the guys in the hallway to head for the bathroom that’s not really a bathroom. It’s nothing special, a room with a tiled floor, two stalls and a sink, but it’s clean and a little private.

The room isn’t locked and when Pete steps inside, both stalls are empty, the familiar scent they use to make this seem more like it’s a room in someone’s home rather than in the back of a club fills his nose. He chooses a stall at random, closing and locking the door behind him; waiting for a stranger to get off with. There’s a wastebasket where the toilette would have been but isn’t, because nobody ever comes here to take a piss; at least not in a toilette. More interesting though and the reason Pete comes here in the first place, is the hole, carefully cut and with the edges taped off, on the dividing wall between the two stalls.

It’s not long before Pete – still debating whether he should already get his pants off to save time – hears the bathroom door pushed open, hitting the wall behind it with a loud bang, followed by a mumbled ‘ _shit’_. Whoever – a guy judged by the sound of that voice – came in locks the door, heavy steps echoing through the room before he moves into the stall next to Pete’s, only closing the door. They don’t talk, it’s not part of the etiquette, but when Pete’s hands fumble with his belt and the zipper, the sounds matched from the other side of the thin wall separating both stalls.

The thought alone makes his heart beat faster and his face heat up; a stranger getting undressed so they can get each other off, a pretty mouth for Pete to use as he pleases.

A pretty, impatient mouth, that’s waiting for Pete to get with the program, if the knock on the wall is anything to go by.

 _Yeah, yeah_ , Pete thinks to himself and pulls his pants and briefs down, enough to get his already half-hard erection out, lazily stroking over it from base to tip, making sure he's seen through the hole in the wall.

The low moan it earns him goes straight to his dick, twitching and growing harder under his working hands. He’s not surprised to see a foil wrapper held through the door, held between two slender fingers, inked with letters that form words he can’t read.

 _Nice tattoos_ , Pete thinks, taking the wrapper but not stopping to jerk his cock. 

More sounds of clothes getting pushed down or off fill the room as Pete rips the wrapper open, rolling the condom over his cock before pushing forward and through the hole in the wall.

And then wet heat surrounds him, lips tight, sucking more and more length in, and Pete can only moan from the pleasure, the first taste of it clouding his head, his hands on the wall trying to find something to hold on to. He just wants to fuck into that mouth, but the hand holding him in a tight fist stops while lips and tongue work over his head, getting spit all over his cock. Pete wonders how it would feel without the added layer of latex, the thought sending shivers down his spine.

The audible plop when the guy pulls off sounds almost obscene in Pete's ears and he groans at the loss, an amused chuckle the only reaction. He wants to protest, but there’s yet more shuffling, so he waits. The next thing Pete feels is not a mouth at all, but something smooth his cock is rubbing against, up and down, pushing through something tight.

 _Oh god_ , Pete thinks, moaning when it registers what he’s rubbing against. His cock – wet with spit - glides easy enough through the guy’s crack, up and down between his cheeks, every now and again almost slipping inside the already loose hole and Pete thinks he can feel every muscle clenching around his cock; helpless moans falling from his lips between soft sighs and heavy breaths from behind the wall.

Pete could come just from this, thinking about that other guy, desperate enough to get fucked through a hole in the wall by some stranger; not that he’s judging, being that he’s the stranger. But he must have prepped himself beforehand, maybe in the real bathroom, maybe even at home, coming here with this in mind all along. 

Pete should stop thinking about it or he’ll never make it long enough to actually fuck him.

“Come on,” he whispers, his first words since the guy came in and on the next push against the loose muscles he slips inside. He expected it to be slow, but they guy pushes against him Pete getting buried in one swift move, the heat almost too much and not enough and perfect.

The soft curse Pete hears when he’s fully inside, as far as he can get, might be the sweetest sound in the world. If he leans back enough he can just so see his cock disappearing inside the guy. How he’d love to put his hands on these hips right now, holding on to fuck into him, but he can’t, only getting a bit of leverage by pressing his hands against either side of him against the walls. They start a slow rhythm, Pete’s hips meeting the wall with every thrust, careful not to slip out when he pulls back, the guy meeting his every thrust. 

Their combined moans and breathing fill the room soon enough, getting louder whenever Pete picks up the speed before slowing down again – trying to draw it out, not lose it so fast - or when he puts more force into his thrust. He tries his best to change his angle now and then, to maybe get lucky and hit that one spot, that spot that makes the guy whimper or scream, lose control completely.

“Are you touching yourself?” Pete asks, breaking the unspoken rule of not- well, speaking, but he doesn’t care; he’d say anything, do anything to hear more of these broken moans.

“Yeah, bet you are,” Pete answers himself and makes and effort to thrust harder into the tight heat, faster, his arms shaking from the strain.

And on his next thrust he hears what he was waiting for, that whimper of pleasure that almost make Pete loose it. But he keeps going, trying to hear that whimper again and again until it’s followed by a moan, loud and drawn out and the muscles tightening around his cock even more, pulling him in deeper.

Still, he doesn’t stop, every thrust now provoking a new, helpless whimper, pushing Pete towards his orgasm, he feels the buildup in his toes, his arms, everywhere. It hits him, not sudden, still like he’s not ready at all and he tries to power through it, the unintentional twitch of his hips and the burst of too much pleasure. but his hips come to a stop, whatever intention he had wiped out by white-hot bliss as he’s coming inside his unknown lover. It seems to go on forever, every spasm zapping down his spine like electric bolts.

If it weren’t for the wall, Pete would fall forward, pulling his lover closed, but instead he drops back against the other wall, careful not to lose the condom when his cock, spent and softening, slips out.

The only sound now is them trying to get their breathing under control and Pete listens closely until he hears the familiar sound of clothes getting pulled up and then the stall and opening, the guy leaving.

He waits another five minutes before he starts to dress himself, his hot skin slowly cooling down. Pete throws the condom into the wastebasket before leaving, too, heading to the bar to get something to drink before he leaves, again passing guys, girls, the dancing crowd. It’s gotten more packed since he disappeared into the room, but being the small dude that he is, he has no problem to find his way through until he’s at the front of the bar, a guy with a wild-looking mohawk and lip ring looking at him to take his order.

“Water, please!”

The guy disappears with a nod, only to reappear with a bottle of water in his hands a few seconds later, holding it out for Pete to take.

“Nice tattoos!"

Pete says it this time, almost shouting to be heard over the music, looking at the guy, his face shiny with sweat. He doesn’t answer, but before he leaves Pete alone with his water, he throws him a knowing smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Starting 2018 off with some kinky stuff, hope you liked it. Let me know in the comments below!


End file.
